


Christmas

by Angelica_writes



Category: Band of Brothers (TV 2001)
Genre: Canon Era, Christmas, Cute, Episode: s01e01 Currahee, Episode: s01e06 Bastogne, Friendship, Gen, Post canon, WWII, White Christmas, World War Two
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:14:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28339062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angelica_writes/pseuds/Angelica_writes
Summary: Three Band of Brothers Christmas fics written as a gift for my wonderful friend Lins!
Comments: 8
Kudos: 10





	1. Dascher and Prancer

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wecomrades](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wecomrades/gifts).



**_CHRISTMAS 1943_ **

“Hey Harry,” Luz patted his friend on the shoulder as he took a seat next to him on the dewy grass. “I need some help.” 

“What’s up George?” Normally Welsh would’ve cracked a joke at his friend’s expense, but he knew Luz well enough to pick up on the hint of seriousness behind the usual cheeky grin. 

“You know that girl I like? The one from the village?” Welsh just nodded.  _ Everyone  _ knew about the girl who had stolen Luz’s heart with her big smile and long silken hair. “Well, I asked her to the Christmas dance.” Welsh couldn’t stop the grin from spreading across his face. Ever since Easy Company had arrived in Aldbourne, he’d been trying to persuade Luz to ask her out, but so far his usually overconfident friend had been too nervous. 

“So, you’ve finally asked her out. Why’d you sound so damn gloomy about it?” Welsh nudged his friend with his shoulder. 

“Because… because I can’t dance for shit, Harry. I’ll end up looking like a bigger fucking idiot than usual, only this time it won’t be on purpose. How the fuck am I meant to learn to dance in the next two days?” Luz’s shoulders slumped and his gaze was focused intently on the ground, while he prodded the grass with a little stick like a child. 

“Maybe she’s a shit dancer too?” Welsh suggested hopefully. 

“Maybe she’s an excellent dancer and she’ll think I’m ridiculous,” Luz retorted. 

“Well maybe the roof will fall in. Maybe a bomb will go off,” Luz finally turned to look at his friend, confused. “Look, you can’t know what’ll happen, exactly how it’ll go. But don’t overthink things, it’s just a date, and she wouldn’t have agreed to go with you if she didn’t like you.” Luz shrugged at his friend’s words, his brain still running at a hundred miles an hour. 

“Alright, stand up,” Welsh tried to pull his friend upright. “That’s an order, Luz,” he said sternly, and Luz finally co-operated. “Put your hand on my waist,” Welsh ordered as he gripped Luz’s shoulder and clasped their free hands together. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” Luz started to laugh uncontrollably, which infected Welsh who began giggling at his friend’s confusion. 

“I’m teaching you how to dance. Believe it or not, me and Kitty are quite something on the dance floors of Wilkes-Barre,” Welsh smirked, his eyes sparkling at the memory of twirling his fiancee around the dance floor. “You’re no Kitty, but I’m sure you can learn a thing or two.” 

“Why, Harry, I never knew you cared,” Luz joked around, finally placing his hand on Welsh’s waist and giggling again. 

“Shut up and dance,” Welsh displayed his trademark toothy grin as he directed Luz’s attention to their feet, to show him the right steps. 

Four hours and  _ several  _ mishaps later - Welsh wondered if his toe might just be broken - the two men collapsed onto the grass, exhausted. 

“Thanks, Harry,” Luz said, sincerely. “You’re a real buddy.” 

“Yeah, yeah. Just don’t let my efforts go to waste,” he nudged Luz and wiggled his eyebrows. “And you’d better stand me a drink. Or several.” 

“Sure thing Harry,” Luz replied, and he was as good as his word. 


	2. White Christmas

**_CHRISTMAS, 1944_ **

**_Sleigh bells ring, are you listening_ **

**_In the lane, snow is glistening_ **

**_A beautiful sight, we’re happy tonight_ **

**_Walking in a winter wonderland_ **

The snow crunched under Guarnere’s feet as he made his way to Winters’ CP.  _ Fucking snow _ , he thought. Back in Philly he used to love the snow, and he thought back to the last winter before he joined the paratroopers, with Frannie throwing snowballs at him in the park. He could never bring himself to throw one back at her. 

“Sir,” Guarnere greeted his superior, who was alone in the CP, busy poring over some papers. The war didn’t stop for anything, not even Christmas. 

“Bill,” Winters returned Guarnere’s salute and gestured to a packing case that was currently serving as a rather uncomfortable seat. Guarnere grinned and precariously placed himself onto it. 

“Just came to wish you a merry Christmas, from me and from the men. Not that there’s much merry about it, but ya know…” Guarnere trailed off. 

“Yeah, I know. Thank you Bill.” The two men were enveloped by a companionable silence. It certainly wasn’t the Christmas they were expecting six months ago and they’d rather have been anywhere else, but they both felt a sense of pride at what they were doing. 

“We’re pretty fu-,” Guarnere checked himself. “We’re pretty damn different from what we were two years ago, huh, sir? Even a year ago.” 

“I couldn’t agree more, Bill,” Winters sighed, pulling his flimsy coat further around himself in a vain attempt to warm himself up. He took the photo from Guarnere that his comrade was now holding out to him, and studied the serious-looking figures in the picture. 

“Joe found this, it’s the first picture of Easy Company.” 

“I remember,” Winters looked up from the photo, a sorrowful smile on his face. There were less and less Toccoa men with Easy Company as each battle passed, but Guarnere seemed to be a permanent fixture. “The moment I finally broke all illusions you had of me being a Quaker feels like a lifetime ago, not six months,” Winters’ smile grew and Guarnere chuckled at the memory. At that moment, Nixon bustled into the CP, making straight for his bottle of Vat 69. Guarnere stood, saluted, and left without another word. The conversation had been short, but sweet, and both men felt pride that not only were they serving their country, but they were serving with one another. 

**_Gone away is the bluebird_ **

**_Here to stay is a new bird_ **

**_He sings a love song, as we go along_ **

**_Walking in a winter wonderland_ **

“Shit, Penk did you see that?” Skip excitedly nudged his friend as he pointed into the snowy trees up above. 

“What? You mean the snow? Yeah, I had kinda noticed that Skip,” Penkala replied sarcastically. 

“No, I mean that,” Skip excitedly wiggled his finger and Penkala took proper notice as he saw some snow fall off one of the tall trees, knocked by something. 

“What the hell is making that tree shake?” 

“It’s a bird!” Skip was even more excited now, desperate for another glimpse of the creature. 

“I can’t see anything,” Penkala grumbled, wanting his friend to shut up so that he could get some shut-eye. 

“Hey fellas,” Malarkey crashed into their foxhole, apologising to Penkala when he accidentally kicked him. 

“Can you see it?” Skip asked his friend. “The bird?” 

“God, don’t talk to me about birds,” Malarkey laughed at his own joke, but Skip was too busy scanning the skies for the animal and Penkala was too grumpy to respond. He shrank further into his coat as Malarkey watched Skip, who was staring into the darkness above. Eventually, Skip gave up, a frown on his face. 

“Hey, what’s the big deal about a bird anyway?” Malarkey asked, playfully kicking his friend’s foot. 

“Dunno,” Skip was silent for a few moments. “It looked like one of those cute little birds you get in gardens. And it reminded me of when me and Faye used to go on picnics.” Malarkey nodded, and shuffled over to put an arm around his friend. 

“Hey!” Skip exclaimed, suddenly lunging forward and pulling Malarkey with him. “Look!” At the edge of the foxhole, a little robin stood in the snow, its bright orange chest puffed out. It crowed a little as it moved around in the snow, leaving behind tiny footprints. Skip watched its every movement, enthralled, and Malarkey found himself watching his friend. He thought this Christmas couldn’t be worse, but seeing his friend find some happiness in the darkest of times made Malarkey grin, and he silently thanked the little robin. 

**_Later on, we’ll conspire_ **

**_As we dream by the fire_ **

**_To face unafraid, the plans that we’ve made_ **

**_Walking in a winter wonderland_ **

“Should you really be doing that?” Luz asked as he crouched next to Welsh, holding his hands out towards the bright orange flame. Sure, he was skeptical about such a foolhardy idea, but the enticing heat of the blaze was irresistible when he was normally surrounded by such bitter cold. 

“We’re in a dell,” Welsh nonchalantly replied, leaning so close to the fire that Luz was half convinced that the flames would lick his face. 

“Huh? You mean like where fairies and gnomes live?” 

“Yeah,” with his monosyllabic response Welsh refused to elaborate and Luz just raised an eyebrow and shrugged. “God I miss Kitty,” Welsh broke the silence. 

“Ah, sweet Kitty Grogan,” Luz chuckled, dodging out the way of a hastily assembled snowball that his friend sent his way. “Shut up Luz.” 

“It snowed the Christmas before I joined the paratroopers. I remember…” Welsh broke off and giggled, “I was walking her home on Christmas Eve. We’d just been ice skating for the first time ever and I was so proud that I’d stayed upright and hadn’t made an ass of myself-” 

“That makes a change, then,” Luz cut in and Welsh laughed, in good humour. 

“And I fell over on an icy patch on her driveway, right on my ass.” Welsh was laughing so hard at the memory that his eyes creased and a couple of tears rolled down his icy cheeks. Luz joined in the giggling, and the two men swayed a little in front of the fire, the laughter reaching their bellies. After they’d calmed down, Welsh reluctantly stamped out the fire. To his surprise, he found that he still felt warm, for the first time in what felt like forever. It wasn’t the work of the fire, either, but the presence of his friend, and thoughts of Kitty. 


	3. Christmas Angels

**_CHRISTMAS, 1945_ **

“Hey, Penk, come over here. Look at this!” Skip called excitedly to his friend, who quickly floated over to join him, peering down below. It had been nearly an entire year, and Penkala still wasn’t used to being an angel. Floating took a lot of getting used to, so did being able to see everything and anything and to appear and disappear at will. He was still undecided if he liked it or not, but Skip certainly enjoyed it as it appealed to his boyish instincts. He was glad he had Skip for company, his friend’s non stop chatter made up for the lack of conversation with anyone else. 

“What’s so interesting about that?” Penkala asked, observing Malarkey walking down some nondescript street. 

“Don’t you see where he is? He’s in Rhode Island!” Skip nudged his friend excitedly, and Penkala grinned. This was sure to be entertaining. 

/// 

Penkala thought back to his notion two days ago that Malarkey’s visit to Luz was going to be the most entertaining thing they’d seen since they became angels. And that was certainly saying something, considering that he’d already been treated to the sights of Malarkey falling over in front of a crowded room full of people and watching Welsh get so drunk that he mistook Ronald Speirs of all people for his beloved Kitty. 

Skip was smirking, enjoying the sight of Malarkey trying almost desperately to find a girl to dance with, even after two hours of no luck. He knew the day before when Luz suggested taking his visiting friend to a local dance being put on for Christmas that something funny was bound to happen, and he wasn’t disappointed. In fact, Skip was getting an even funnier show than he’d anticipated since Welsh had turned up the day before to spend some time with his friends in the run-up to Christmas. Skip thought it was a shame that Speirs wasn’t here, now that would’ve been comedy gold. But, he was happy to make do with what he had. 

Skip watched with rapt attention as Malarkey approached a girl at the bar.  _ Not her _ , Skip thought.  _ She’s out of your league _ . 

“Hi there,” Malarkey greeted her with his trademark goofy grin. 

“Hello,” she returned quietly, and Skip correctly deduced that she was somewhat shy as he softly tucked her hair behind her ear and gazed into her empty glass. 

“Hi!” Luz now bounded in out of nowhere, causing Malarkey’s grin to disappear. Skip began chuckling to himself. 

“Hello,” she returned again, looking slightly confused. 

“I’m George, George Luz. And this here is Private Bullshit.” Luz began howling at his own joke, and Skip knew that if he was there next to him he’d be able to smell the alcohol clearly enough. The girl flinched slightly at Luz’s profanity. 

“I’m Donald,” Malarkey held out a hand and she shook it politely. 

“Donald Duck.” Welsh had now joined the trio, and if it was possible he was even more drunk than Luz. Despite his ability to hold his liquor, he was swaying slightly, suggesting he’d consumed  _ a lot _ . Welsh was never one to scorn an open bar. 

“Would you like to dance?” Malarkey held his hand out to the beauty before him, smiling apologetically. To Skip’s intense surprise, she agreed, taking his hand and allowing herself to be led onto the dancefloor. As the couple swayed gently to  _ White Christmas _ , Skip humming along, Luz and Welsh leaned against the bar, watching the dancing and drinking even more. 

“Well,” Luz straightened himself up and made a show of adjusting his tie. “I ain’t no Kitty, but what about a dance?” He giggled and hiccuped slightly as he held his hand out to Welsh. Welsh surveyed the room, and acquiesced upon seeing that the only women at the dance not currently on the dancefloor were old enough to be his grandmother. 

“Don’t mind if I do, thank you sir.” Welsh bowed slightly and matched Luz’s giggle with an attempt of his own, which came out as more of a strangled cry. Skip began to cackle, seeing the two men twirling each other across the dancefloor, the other couples, stunned, moving out of their path. Several times, Luz and Welsh nearly fell over, but they just laughed it off and carried on. Tears began streaming down Skip’s face, he was laughing so much, and that’s how Penkala found him upon his return. 

“What the hell’s  _ this  _ funny?” He asked his friend who was consumed by a silent laughing fit. 

“Down… there…” Skip pointed and Penkala followed his gaze, joining his friend in hysterics at the sight. 

Once they’d recovered slightly, Skip pointed at the corner of the dancehall, to a couple locked in a sweet embrace. 

“Well, it all turned out good for Malark, then,” he grinned at Penkala. “Although something tells me that Welsh and Luz are gonna have seriously sore heads in the morning.” 

“You’re so beautiful,” they heard Malarkey murmur to his girl, who blushed at the compliment. “Can I tell you a story?” He asked, leading her over to one of the empty tables. She nodded assent, and he continued, “I swam the Niagara once,” Skip’s mouth fell open and he could’ve sworn that Malarkey puffed out his chest like a proud bird. 

“Son of a bitch!” Skip exclaimed, looking over to a laughing Penkala, who just shrugged. “Private Bullshit indeed!” Despite seeming annoyed, Skip didn’t really mind. He’d never tell the story again, and if anyone was gonna use it, he wanted it to be his best friend. He just chuckled to himself, watching as Luz finally fell over, bringing Welsh down with him. 

/// 

“Here,” Penkala handed his friend a warm, comforting mug of mulled wine and Skip gazed into the steam rising into the air. He thought back to when he drank hot drinks during winter more out of necessity than enjoyment, needing them to warm up his icy form. Being an angel had its perks, he was never once cold. Now he enjoyed these drinks because they reminded him of home. Observing was not the same as living, although it was some consolation, as was the presence of his friend. 

“Thanks Penk,” Skip smiled as he took a sip. 

“Merry Christmas, Skip,” Penk grinned. 

“Merry Christmas Penk.” 

“ _ Once again as in olden days _ ,” Skip began to sing, and his friend joined in. 

“ _ Happy golden days of yore,  _

_ Faithful friends who are dear to us  _

_ Will be near to us  _

_ Once more.  _

_ Someday soon we all will be together,  _

_ If the fates allow  _

_ Until then we’ll have tomorrow through somehow  _

_ So have yourself a merry little Christmas, now _ .” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this, thank you for reading! The thing with Malarkey stealing Skip's story inspired another of my fics, Private Bullshit, so check it out if you haven't already XD


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